


golden girl.

by 1roomdisco



Series: WE LOVE GIRLS. [2]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, F/M, Genderbending, Humor, I APOLOGIZE, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, girl!wonpil is sassy and sungjin is whipped, jae the sungpil president
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 15:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12634344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1roomdisco/pseuds/1roomdisco
Summary: in which wonpil gets turned into a girl overnight, and he (she?) can only turn back if she sleeps with the one who wished for him to be a girl in the first place.





	golden girl.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  \- for everyone
> 
> \- i got bored lmao this happened
> 
> \- bbainggg BUT don't forget to leave lotsa kudos and comments or i'll stop writing  
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it’s all the tough busan namja bullshit he’s been feeding on for the past 24 years of his pathetic life. if only he wasn’t that determined to keep up with his tough busan namja façade, this wouldn’t have happened! look at that! wonpil is a girl now and it’s his fault!

kim wonpil! the main culprit of his restless sleep with his cute everything! it’s bad enough that the younger man (woman??) hasn’t really shed off his— _her_ —natural aegyo even though she’s lost the baby fat around her cheeks, but what’s worse now that she’s a woman, years later ever since she barreled her way into sungjin’s life, the sharp jawline is magically changed into a smoother slope and her cute, crossed eyes have actual _long_ eyelashes, making her look like a proper lady with flawless bare face and disheveled, shoulder-length hair. she’s wearing sungjin’s favorite, oversized pink t-shirt, looking like a phantom girlfriend sungjin could ever only wished for.

_fuck._

the only reason why she’s wearing sungjin’s favorite, oversized pink t-shirt is because of the thicker material. she’s not wearing any bra underneath. not like there’s much going on in the chest department of newly turned into a girl kim wonpil, but.

but still.

anyway, thank god she’s not crying. she’s just glaring at everyone in the living room from her rightful place on the sofa while everyone else is sprawled on the floor. dowoon can’t seem to stop fidgeting in front of her, the tips of his ears are getting redder and redder by the seconds.

she’s… _tiny_ , like when she was a he, but thankfully she doesn’t look like her older sister. she’s _wonpil_ , with her white neck looking so fragile. honestly, sungjin is doomed. her mouthwatering legs are skinny yet they have curves at the right places, and they’re only clad in her gundam boxer shorts and there’s so much skin for sungjin to handle. god. don’t even talk to sungjin about her ankles, because. fuck. _her ankles_.

jaehyung and brian are taking the news with _flourish_. they woke up manager-hyung with infuriatingly animated urgency, and they’ve been working together, consulting google, naver, pann, and some american crack websites with manager-hyung to find out why, and how to turn wonpil back to her old himself.

she’s sulking. her bottom lip is jutting out.

sungjin sighs, getting up from the sofa to pour himself a refreshing glass of water. dowoon scrambles to his feet and follows him, away from wonpil’s menacing glare.

“hyung,” dowoon is whispering, pressing close to sungjin’s side. they’re facing the tiny windows of the kitchen. sungjin raises an eyebrow.

“what should i call _her?_ noona? hyung?”

“good question,” sungjin rolls his eyes, “ask her yourself.”

“no way, look at her!” dowoon hisses, and sungjin feels bad for him. he didn’t mean to snap at the maknae, but really, this is stressing him out. this is his fault. “i’ve never seen wonpil-hyung—noona—this angry before.”

last night, they celebrated brian’s birthday at a BBQ restaurant, continuing their way to the hottest club of itaewon for a kick. everyone was having a good time, drinking and dancing, but then wonpil started getting handsy because that’s how he is whenever he’s wasted, all giggling mess and sweet whining towards anyone who happened to look his way twice. some people, of course, looked his way _more than_ twice, since the three buttons of his favorite pinstriped shirt were undone and his black jeans were like second skin on his tiny legs. sungjin? sungjin made sure he shooed away people who so much thought of approaching wonpil with his glare.

“i’ll just call her hyung,” dowoon mumbles, “it’s weird enough as it is.”

sungjin blinks just in time with jaehyung exclaiming from the bed on the living room,

“i got it! yes! hey, guys, i got the answer from reddit, listen up!”

to summarize, sungjin’s misery begins right after jaehyung explains that basically, wonpil just needs to sleep with the one who wished for him to be a girl in the first place. the one in question, of course, is sungjin, but he hasn’t said a word about it because brian’s birthday cake and the make-a-wish part happened at the club way past midnight when everyone was shitfaced and sungjin had enough of glaring at people and wished if only wonpil was a girl it’d be easier for him to stake his claim, like they’re in some sort of ancient courting ritual.

jaehyung and brian are laughing out loud. manager-hyung hides his wide grin behind his fist. dowoon looks _petrified_ , and sungjin almost wishes that he can turn back time but stops himself from doing so. he glances at wonpil; she’s scoffing in disgust, probably at the fact that she needs to sleep with one of her band members— _sungjin_ , really, ha ha—but there’s a pretty red flush coloring her cute face.

sungjin doesn’t stand a chance.

“alright raise your hand if you wished for wonpil to turn into a girl?” jaehyung asks, way too _ecstatic_ at nine in the morning, and he’s yelling in victory when sungjin swallows down his pride, raising his left hand in the air.

“i knew it!”

“ _what?_ ” sungjin frowns, left hand still raised.

“the music videos for our august to october releases fucked you up, huh?” jaehyung’s smile turns soft at the edge, but sungjin is still frowning. “anyway it’s bound to happen sooner or later.”

…what?

“but why did you want me to be a girl, sungjin-hyung?” wonpil asks, narrowing her eyes at sungjin, pauses to have a realization dawning upon her, and gasps, all done in such cute manner that only she can pull off. “oh my god! _do you like me?!_ ”

again, jaehyung is laughing out loud he’s falling to brian’s lap. brian’s mouth is opened in a silent gape and dowoon is following suit, clutching at manager-hyung’s knee.

sungjin shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak at the moment.

“is that why you were glaring the whole time we were at the club?” brian is coughing/laughing, staring at sungjin like he’s grown a third eye or something.

“ _he was?_ ” wonpil squeaks, like she’s flattered, and brian nods.

“go clean up this mess, leadernim,” manager-hyung says in between sungjin’s frantic heartbeats and the blood rushing in his ears. “i’ve got condoms and the likes in my room.”

“holy shit it’s really happening,” jaehyung claps his hands, there are unnecessary sparkles on his eyes. “sungpil rise!”

“ _what?_ ”

“oh, don’t mind me. hyung, shouldn’t we go out to give them space?” jaehyung makes a vague gesture with his hands and he addresses the elephant in the room. “or do you guys want to do it in a hotel instead?”

“no no, too much hassle,” manager-hyung objects with a final tone, “think about fansites and their ninja ways. if they photograph sungjin going into a hotel with a mysterious girl, you’re all doomed.”

“that’s true,” jaehyung hums, “how long do you guys need to solve the sexual tension?”

wonpil blushes. sungjin wants to scream _WHAT SEXUAL TENSION??_ but he relents, holding up ten fingers.

“ _ten hours?_ jesus, talk about being insatiable.” jaehyung whistles, elbowing brian.

sungjin wants to die. “i mean give me time at least until 10 pm, _christ_.” he runs one shaking hand through his greasy hair, and thinks about taking a shower before going anywhere near wonpil.

“jae-hyung don’t be mean,” dowoon huffs, “can’t you see it’s hard for them to do this?”

“whoops, sorry.” jaehyung grimaces. brian elbows him back for his slip, sending encouraging smile to sungjin just like the good guy he is.

“okay, let’s go see a movie. the newest thor is playing.” manager-hyung is the first one to stand up. “i’ll pay.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

wonpil wants fried chicken for lunch. sungjin orders it for them, plus an extra portion of blood sausage. they eat lunch in silent, watching a re-run of deadpool on cable. they both are sitting on the corners of the sofa, the fried chicken box acts as a barrier between them. so far, wonpil has eaten three. sungjin is still nibbling on his first.

there are too many things running in his mind right now, but only one in particular is making it harder for him to breathe as the time passes by; it’s easy to turn wonpil back, but _what_ , then?

sungjin likes to fool himself that he doesn’t have a crush on their resident cutie keyboardist, all thanks to his tough busan namja persona that became his habit. it’s a miracle wonpil hasn’t exploded on camera whenever sungjin rejects his affection, but even my days understand that it’s just regular sungjin thing, since there will be either brian or dowoon to accept wonpil’s antics. was jaehyung right about the threequel MV for their august – october releases fucking him up royally in the head?

the clock strikes one.

the toilet is flushed. a moment later wonpil comes out of the bathroom looking fresher after a quick shower, but still wearing the same attire as before.

instead of sitting on her previous seat on the sofa, she sits right in sungjin’s line of vision on the floor, crossing her white arms and white legs.

“you haven’t looked at me, hyung.”

“sorry.”

“it’s not that, ugh!” she scrunches her cute nose. “am i ugly? too skinny just like the real me? not enough curves for your taste?”

“what— _hey_ , no,” sungjin splutters. “please, stop. i’m sorry.”

wonpil scoffs again, so unlike when she was he and his saint-like patience.

“can i ask you a question?” at wonpil’s solemn mood, sungjin nods. “do you like the real me or the me right now in front of you, hyung?”

ah, _fuck_ it.

sungjin releases a deep sigh. “just you.”

wonpil makes an understanding, cute nose. her warm, much smaller hand is squeezing sungjin’s and she says, “cool.” then asks, “do you want to touch me?”

sungjin closes his eyes.

“i’m really sorry about what i wanted.” he mumbles, runs one hand through his washed hair, and opens his eyes to find wonpil is staring at him. he pats his lap with what hopefully is a smile. “c’mere.”

wonpil does as she’s told. she climbs sungjin’s lap with grace, stationing two white thighs on the either side of sungjin’s waist, her ass is plush against sungjin’s thighs, a very much welcomed, very warm and very cute weight. their eyes meet. sungjin, mesmerized, puts his hands on wonpil’s waist, slipping his thumbs into his borrowed, favorite oversized pink t-shirt, keeping one hand still while the other sliding its way up up up against smooth skin, ending at wonpil’s left breast, cupping it with his palm.

wonpil sighs, moving her hips on top of him as sungjin easily kneading her breast, coaxing the first moans out of her pink mouth when his thumb is rubbing the erect nipple.

the friction, the warmth, _wonpil_ , they’re all making sungjin hard.

“mmmn.” wonpil notices it too and she presses even closer, spreading her legs, rubbing her crotch against sungjin’s bulge until both their pussy and cock are _throbbing_. she’s tightening her thighs when sungjin moves his hands to rest on her ass, her breasts are jiggling along with her movements, her head is thrown back and her hands are hurting sungjin’s neck. she’s loud, getting wet down there judging by the slightest _slickslickslick_ sound that sungjin can catch, and it’s not long before she gasps like she’s being hit on the stomach.

“c-can i come?” she asks, eyes rolling until only the whites are showing, her hips never faltering.

sungjin clears his throat. “can you?”

“n-not enough.” she whines, licking her bottom lip, probably not even aware how _lethal_ she looks, almost reaching completion but not quite.

“touch yourself.”

wonpil slows down. sungjin sits up straighter, helping her to get rid of her gundam boxers, revealing her glistening pussy. she’s so wet and white and _pink_ , thin coarse hair a nice decoration down there. sungjin is staring, not touching, but his mouth is already watering and he blurts out,

“do it, be a good girl.”

well, does _that_ spur wonpil to lean her weight back with sungjin’s hands as the anchor on her waist so she can fold her knees, spreading them, using her index and middle finger to rub her clit until it’s swollen, until clear liquids are coming out in a seemingly endless stream from her opening, until she’s shuddering with a high-pitched wailing and it’s not long until her hand is trapped between her closed, sweaty thighs as she comes, soaking sungjin’s black pajama pants.

the room is filled wonpil’s loud but cute panting and sungjin’s labored breathing.

she’s _whining_ at the mess she made on herself and sungjin, but when their eyes meet, they don’t waste time to kiss like there’s no tomorrow. sungjin bites while wonpil sucks, her nails digging on sungjin’s scalp and jaw, determined to hurt. sungjin keeps his hands on her ass, but he’s moving his hips, letting wonpil know that his cock is fully hard, the purpling head is peeking out of the waistline of his pajama pants.

“do we need condom?” sungjin asks, slobbering. wonpil curses when she glances down, and she moans when she squeezes the outline of sungjin’s cock with her small, small hand.

“i didn’t know you’re this big.” she says in awe.

“hah.”

“it’s not like i can get pregnant,” wonpil bites the underside of sungjin’s jawline, “i want to feel your everything, hyung.”

sungjin grabs the back of wonpil’s knees, hoisting her up and walking them to the bed where dowoon and wonpil usually cuddle. wonpil giggles as if she’s reading sungjin’s mind, and she reassures him that she will clean up after.

“get the lube, hyung,” wonpil whispers, pinching sungjin’s chin. “i’ll be here.”

and she’s buck naked when sungjin comes back from manager-hyung’s room, smiling cutely at sungjin, reaching out her arms like she’s impatient to have sungjin back.

the kiss is unhurried, this time. sungjin is naked from waist down upon wonpil’s request to still wearing his plain white t-shirt, stating that sungjin looks _hot_ in it. sungjin is not complaining, the room is cold enough in december, anyway.

he rubs his cockhead against wonpil’s fold, seeking friction.

“come on,” wonpil moans, licking sungjin’s open mouth. “do something.”

sungjin sits back on his knees, pouring a dollop of water-based lube to his fingers, smearing it. his thumb presses a tentative touch on wonpil’s clit, and she makes a cute _ungh_ sound. he drags his middle finger from her clit down to the outer labia before pressing it into the tight opening.

wonpil is already _panting_ , her nipples are erect and her legs are spread wide. her hands are clutching the sheet. the flat screen is still showing deadpool and the living room is bathed in artificial light because it’s cloudy outside and the curtain is closed.

sungjin presses further, his middle finger is wet with lube, and tries to curl it when he’s two knuckles deep. wonpil’s whole body jerks, her muscles clenching.

sungjin adds his index finger, jabbing them forward until they’re in _deep_ , before scissoring them around. wonpil sounds _wonderful_ , writhing underneath him while slicking herself real nice the longer sungjin’s fingers are exploring the depth of her body. she feels so _tight_ around his fingers and sungjin wonders how amazing she would feel around his cock, and so he bends down, down, down until he can lick her clit, grazing his teeth and tongue on her fold, and wonpil grabs his hair, the heels of her feet are on sungjin’s back, pressing him closer.

she tastes nostalgic. smells good, clean, like her favorite milk and honey body wash. sungjin teases his third finger in and wonpil cries out for him to _stop, stop, please._

“yeah?” sungjin heaves, feeling his pride soaring up high. he’s still got it, after all, however rusty his skill is. he pulls his fingers out, drinking the sight of wonpil; all sweaty mess and lithe body begging to be fucked. wonpil has her eyes closed and two of her fingers in her mouth, and her thin, pink lips and hollowed cheeks are so going to be in sungjin’s dreams.

“hey.” sungjin nuzzles his nose to wonpil’s neck, kissing the delicate collarbone while rubbing calming circles on her jutting hipbones. wonpil throws his arms around sungjin’s shoulders, pulling him down for a deep kiss. she locks her legs on sungjin’s waist, moaning when sungjin fondles with his cock so it’s length is rubbing against her pussy.

“fuck you’re so big,” wonpil giggles, and as she says so, getting wet down there. “like, big _big_.”

“shush, it’s really weird listening to you spewing curses.” sungjin’s throat is dry, looking down to where his cock is ready. “tell me if i hurt you.”

wonpil nods, bracing herself, and sungjin pushes in.

it’s tight and so, _so_ _wet_. wonpil is whining when sungjin manages to get the cockhead in, stretching her opening, and she’s tightening even more as sungjin tries to pushpushpush until he’s in to the hilt, until he can’t go anywhere but pulling back then pushing back in, and that’s when she starts to get loose around his girth, wetter, _slicker_.

louder.

“ah, ah, ah—“ wonpil rakes her blunt nails against sungjin’s broad back, pushing her hips to meet with sungjin’s steady thrusts. “ah, hyung!” she gasps, her muscles _clenching_ after sungjin hitting her g-spot. sungjin shifts his stance, taking her ankles and driving his cock in with a renewed vigor and wonpil sounds even better than porn, looks way hotter, and sungjin fucks her harder, deeper.

“yeah, uh, there— _there_ , please!” wonpil screams, kicking one leg free of sungjin’s hold, and sungjin leans back down, moving his hips without pulling his cock out, and wonpil is muffling her loud moans by biting sungjin’s shoulder.

it’s primal, what they’re doing. sungjin grunts in surprise when wonpil comes, her wetness spreading around his cock and her muscles tightening like a vice for a dozen heartbeats until wonpil lets go, going pliant and relaxed with one loud sigh, but still not forgetting sungjin, hard and throbbing, inside of her.

“come on,” she whispers softly, cradling sungjin’s face, “ _give me_.”

that does it for sungjin. he pushes once, twice, and slots himself deep as his orgasm hits like rolling waves. wonpil is kissing him through it, keeping him afloat, her legs never loosening around sungjin’s waist, and she’s making this uh, uh sounds as sungjin loads his come in her.

sungjin growls, his body going taut as the last bit of his high is mixing with wonpil’s. he swallows noisily, taking a deep breath before pulling his cock out and wonpil is _mewling_ when she feels sungjin’s come oozing out of her opening.

“oh my god,” wonpil is wheezing, her whole slim body is trembling with the afterglow, her tiny but perky breasts are heaving as she tries to formulate words. “can we do it again?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

wonpil is still a she after the third round in the shower.

all cleaned up, they’re moving to the bedroom, lying in sungjin’s bed with wonpil resting her head on sungjin’s chest. they’re both dressed like civilized human beings, and the room is dark.

“what if i stay like this, hyung?” wonpil says after the silence is lulling sungjin to think that a nap will be good right now. “oh my god what if i get _pregnant?!_ ”

“i will take responsibility.” sungjin fights the yawn, stroking wonpil’s partly damp hair. they decided not to dwell too much with the hair dryer.

wonpil hums in acknowledgment, probably flattered a little. “like, will you marry me and stuff?”

“i will marry you and stuff.”

“do you like me that much, hyung?”

“i guess i do.”

“if we’re married i get to unleash my aegyo to you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“yeah.”

“ _oppaya, you’re so big~_ ”

“i hate myself because i like it so much.”

wonpil laughs, doesn’t bother covering her mouth in faux modesty, and bites sungjin’s left pectoral. “maybe i should change my name. call me wonhee.”

“nah.” sungjin feels the sting but he’s just squeezing wonpil closer to his side, inhaling green tea from her because they used his body wash.

“are you sleepy, hyung?”

“hm.”

“but which one do you want to see when you wake up?”

“just you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
